Zim For President
by TrustMeIAmScience
Summary: After a video of Zim ranting furiously gets leaked onto the internet, people begin to realise that he would probably make a pretty damn good political leader. Rated T for swears.
1. Chapter 1

Zim For President

**AN/ This is my first fanfic. Comments are much appreciated.  
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><p><span>Chapter 1: Video<span>

_Dib, you're a genius! _He thought to himself as he rushed home from skool just before lessons had begun. A terrific idea had just occurred to him. But this idea was even more terrific than all his others, as this one would actually WORK. He rushed down the familiar street as he had done on so many similar occasions. He rounded the corner and stopped several yards in front of Zim's house.

He knew by now how to get past Zim's surprisingly lax security measures. Other than the gnomes on the lawn, nothing posed a considerable obstacle between him and the odd purple building. So he sneaked in through the back window and set to work. Although simple, his plan was flawlessly brilliant; he'd thought of and tried rigging the alien's base with bugs and cameras many times before, but Zim had surveillance cameras of his own, which made it very difficult for him to place the bugs and cameras without him knowing. So he thought of using the Irken's own surveillance system against him. This way, he would leave no trace of having been in Zim's house to begin with, and Zim would have no way of knowing that he was being watched. He began hacking Zim's computer so that it would send all its surveillance footage to Dib's TV.

Alien computers were actually not that different from normal ones, except for the fact that normal computer firewalls didn't involve ACTUAL fire. But a few first-degree burns were a small price to pay in return for getting to watch what Zim was planning 24 hours a day. Dib hadn't yet figured what he'd do with the footage, but he'd find some way of getting someone who actually gave a rat's ass to watch it. His hacking done, he quickly set up a link to his TV and stopped to admire his handiwork. Soon he'd get people to see the truth. Then he'd prove himself as a hero to mankind.

Before leaving, curiosity compelled him to take a longer look at the workings of the alien computer. It seemed to be several times faster than the latest earth models, but the screen resolution was terrible. _I suppose making things prettier isn't really a priority of the Irken race, _he thought absentmindedly as he turned the monitor off after deleting any traces of his meddling.

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><p>Meanwhile, at skool….<p>

Zim yawned. Dib-worm wasn't here today; making things even more boring, if that was even possible. He wondered absentmindedly what his arch-rival was doing, but didn't really care. Inferior human affairs were of no interest to the mighty Zim. But still, Dib was probably plotting something. Probably another futile plan to expose Zim to the other humans. Hadn't he realised that no-one would ever listen to him?

Miss Bitters was blathering on about some human election-thing that was coming up this summer and how America would undoubtedly elect a leader who would start a nuclear war, thus dooming us all. Zim was vaguely interested by the fact that humans chose their own leader, rather than have it already decided by height. He decided that a human could not possibly lead other humans unless it had some form of giganticism, and that any human who voted for a leader that was not unnaturally tall was a huge fool even by human standards.

The Skool bell rang, thus ending the lecture. On his way home, Zim noticed that one of his windows was wide open. He dismissed the small abnormality as Gir's doing. Speaking of Gir, the small robot was sat in front of the TV watching The Scary Monkey show.

"Gir! Status report!" ordered Zim.

"CHEEEZZZ!" Gir screeched, getting up and running around the room. Interpreting this as an ordinary response, Zim threw off his disguise and headed to the base.

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><p>Dib stared at the Irken from his TV screen, revelling in the knowledge that he had no idea he was being watched. He couldn't help but let out a small evil laugh.<p>

"This victory is mine, Zim!" He yelled –pretty loudly- at the TV. He soon regretted doing this after receiving a death stare from Gaz, who was sat across the room. Gaz didn't usually look up from her video games, but when she did it sent a chill through Dib's very soul. Needing a distraction from Gaz's evil glare, Dib resumed watching the CCTV footage of Zim.

"Haha…look at him, Gaz. I'm watching him 24/7, and he's none the wiser!" Dib chuckled.

"Crazy obsessive stalker." Gaz muttered.

Dib ignored her and stared back at the TV. Zim was now ranting loudly about world domination and the general stupidity of humanity. Dib decided that this was a good opportunity to reveal his identity to the world. Feeling too mentally drained to do anything more elaborate, he just stuck the video on PooTube –the video sharing site- and hoped that some other nerds would notice it.

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><p>"Filthy inferior humans and their filthy inferior political hierarchies!" Zim ranted. "These so-called 'politicians' are far past the point of mental retardation! They know NOTHING of how to rule a species properly, NOTHING!" He yelled, turning around and pacing the floor. "They're doing it all wrong! But if I were in their smelly inferior human shoes, there'd be some MAJOR changes!"<p>

"Firstly, I'd abolish those primitive slime-pits know as skools. What with their demonic teachers and poisonous meals. Second, since those filthy human worm-babies are no longer having their time needlessly wasted on _education_, I'd send them out with loads of weapons to CRUSH this incompetent country's uncivilized ememies. CRUSH THEM I SAY! CRUSH THEM WITH THEIR DISGUSTING PRIMITIVE HUMAN WEAPONS!"

"Then I'd abolish the worship of these lowly human deities known as _celebrities_, FOR ALL GLORY SHALL BELONG TO ZIM! ALL OF IT! Then, those annoying human celebrities shall be EXECUTED! EXECUTED BY BEING EATEN! BY EACH OTHER! And their executions shall be broadcast publicly as the GREATEST REALITY TV SHOW OF ALL TIME!" He continued on and on, shaking his fist in annoyance every so often, unaware that his rant was quickly shooting to internet fame on the vast and oddly named video site, PooTube.

**AN/ AW YEAH, finished mah first fanfic! I know it's kind of rushed, but I hope you enjoyed it! Stay tuned for the next instalment (if you can be bothered. More importantly, if _I _can be bothered). Later, doods!**


	2. Chapter 2

Zim For President

**AN/ Wooo! Time for another chapter, guys! I can't believe that this got some reviews, you're awesome!**

Chapter 2: Chickens

President Man sat in the Wite Howz, worried. This year, the competition was fierce and he was sure he'd lose his position if he didn't come up with something fast. At the moment, his greatest adversary was Mike the Headless Chicken, who'd raked in thousands of supporters in just the last few weeks with his promises to lower the rent (which the people apparently believed to be 'too damn high'). Yup, President Man was screwed this year for sure. At this rate, Mike the Headless chicken would outdo him by miles.

If only some unfortunate accident were to happen that would render the poor fowl unable to participate in the election…

President Man grinned as he began to draw plans for his last line of defence.

Meanwhile, Dib stared at his computer, baffled. How on earth had one of his random videos gained _over 9000 _views overnight? Even Dib knew by now that most people dismissed his proof of Zim being an alien as nonsense, so even he was sceptical that this many people would see the footage he'd uploaded. Not having anything better to do, he scrolled down and read some of the comments. Even more shockingly, not even one of them was about aliens.

It seemed that they thought Zim's rant made perfect sense, and was in fact the most intelligent point made by anyone on the internet. How an alien yelling about world domination and pointing out humanity's flaws could gain so much support, Dib had no idea. Since this was clearly going nowhere in Dib's plan to expose Zim to the world as an alien, he decided that the only thing left that this video was good for was annoying Zim.

Dib couldn't wait to see the look on the Irken's face when he found out that his privacy had been violated and exposed to the world. Dib wondered for a moment how exactly he'd go about getting the video across so that Zim would see it when he least expected. A new idea crept into his massive head, and after another few minutes of thinking, he got on the phone to the presenter of _Mysterious Mysteries_.

Dib was sure that it would work. You see, that presenter owed Dib a few favours, all thanks to the time when Dib saved his job by appearing on the show. He was positive that it would go off without a hitch. And he'd be watching Zim's reaction when the video of him was aired on TV. Surely making such a bold move as this would draw the Irken out and force him to make some kind of rash move, the Dib would have him cornered.

But at this stage, it was mainly for the lulz. For the lulz, and for the FUTURE OF MANKIND! Or so Dib had convinced himself. Anyhow, he'd been on hold for the past 3 hours and was starting to doubt that he'd get an answer. He swallowed his frustration by thinking of how awesome the payoff would be. Patience was a virtue, after all. Suddenly, the annoyingly cheerful music cut off and the TV presenter finally answered.

"Ugh, not you again….I was going to just not answer, but my receptionist apparently couldn't put you on hold forever. So what do you want _this_ time?"

"I just have a favour to ask." Dib replied smugly.

"_Another _one?"

"yup."

"Fine… but this is the LAST one!" he finally caved in._ Yes!_

Dib clenched his fist in triumph. Everything was going perfectly. Perhaps _too_ perfectly…

Zim sat in front of the TV. He'd recently figured that constant watching of television would provide him with a whole load more information about Earth. He'd spent the last hour or so staring blankly at one of Mike the Headless Chicken's award-winning speeches. Mike was the current favourite to win the upcoming elections, and even Zim had to acknowledge the chicken's prowess. It was more intelligent than the humans, anyways.

As the beheaded bird finished the speech with a few patriotic words and stepped of the podium, the crowd erupted into passionate applause, some of them even wiping away manly tears. Thoroughly bored and weary of the human's fickle antics, Zim changed the channel to see a familiar bald black guy talking about werewolves that secretly inhabited the stationary cupboards of most offices. Zim then recognised the show as _Mysterious Mysteries_. Having appeared on the show once before thanks to another of Dib's failed plans to expose him, he decided to watch the remainder of the programme out of mild curiosity. It seemed like it was nearly finished anyways.

"But before we go," the show's host began, his expression turning slightly exasperated. "We wish to share this, erm…._shocking footage_ with you." The screen then flipped to show the video.

_Minutes later…_

Zim's eye twitched and his mouth hung open, dumbfounded. How the hell had this happened? It didn't help that Gir had been giggling and pointing hysterically the whole time that he'd been mortified by what he was watching. Somehow, this was all Dib's fault.

"That filthy Earth boy!" Zim cursed. "I shall make him PAY!" He yelled, standing up. "Come, Gir! It is time for REVEEENGE!"

"Can I bring mah Piggy with me?" the little robot asked.

"Yes, bring the piggy, for it is necessary for Zim's MIGHTY plans for VENGEAAANCE!"

"Wooooohooooo! We're doin' vengeance, Piggy!" Gir cheered.

So Zim set off to Skool the next morning, the early fragments of a plan fitting themselves together within his superior Irken mind.

Mike the Headless Chicken walked along, surrounded by an escort of bodyguards. Things were going well for him. Soon he'd have the support of the nation behind him and then the elections would be a walk in the park. As he made his way to his limo, a fat guy in a long jacket and dark glasses approached him.

"Excuse me, sir, but you'll have to come with me." The fat guy said. Mike recognised the voice as President Man's, though it may have been his imagination. Before he could say anything, he was scooped up by the fat guy and jammed into another car parked down the street. He let out a terrified gurgling squawk when he realised he'd been kidnapped.

**AN: YEAH, HEADLESS CHICKENS! Okay, not much has happened in this chapter, but I promise there'll be more of Zim's crazy views on politics in the next one. Keep reading, doods!**


	3. Chapter 3

Zim For President

Chapter 3: negotiations

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><p>Mike the headless chicken awoke bound and gagged in an alleyway. He vaguely remembered seeing someone who looked like President Man, then being grabbed and dragged away. Where were his bodyguards when he needed them? Whatever the case, his chicken senses told him he was far away from home. Also, the place smelled. A lot.<p>

He heard footsteps. A hobo scurried up to him, licking his lips at the sight of a tasty morsel. He picked up the tied-up chicken and shoved him in a plastic bag. Mike became flustered, squawking (though being headless, his squawks always came out as more of a disturbing gurgle) and trying to break free. But it was useless, the hobo had him and all he could do was lie there in humiliated silence.

_Curse you, President Man! This is all your doing, isn't it!_ Mike thought spitefully, but slightly surprised that such a drooling idiot had the mental capacity to pull this off.

Still, things didn't look good for the poultry political prodigy, as he was almost certainly about to be eaten before he'd even had the chance to prove himself to his country.

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><p>Zim was on his way to Skool, Gir in tow wearing his usual green dog suit. He had this all thought out; his plan was foolproof and trustworthy. Vengeance would be his, Dib would sincerely regret humiliating him once he'd shown the obnoxious human that Irken invaders were not to be messed with. Deciding to check his preparations one last time, he turned to his SIR unit.<p>

"Gir, have you got the mushrooms?" he asked.

"AAAAWL five of 'em"

"And the sandals?"

"Yip."

"What about the luminous paint?"

"It was delicious!" Gir cheered.

Zim frowned. Gir eating random things wasn't exactly a surprise, but it didn't help at all when he ate the props for his plans. He facepalmed in annoyance.

"Gir… you idiot. This puts the entire plan in jeopardy. FOR WHAT USE IS A HUMAN PINATA WITHOUT LUMINOUS PAINT?" Zim yelled, losing his cool. He was so busy yelling at Gir that he bumped into someone on the sidewalk. Zim turned around. The human he'd bumped into had dropped its plastic bag, which Zim noticed was moving. As far as he knew, human plastic bags weren't prone to moving on their own. Or making hideous gurgling noises, for that matter.

He stared at the bag in curiosity, just as the scruffy human picked it up in a hurry. He accidentally picked it up upside down, and a bundle of orange feathers fell out. The feathered creature flailed around, its legs and wings were tied and it seemed to be in distress. Gir trotted up to it.

"Hi, chikkin!" gir trilled, putting the bird on his head and running around.

"Put me down, you…..you...what ARE you, anyway?" the chicken asked in confusion. A talking chicken? More curious now, Zim picked up the bird and untied it. Upon closer examination, it appeared that it was lacking a head.

"Wait, aren't you…?" Zim began, recognising the bird from somewhere.

"Yes, I'm Mike. I'm currently running for president." Mike said.

"….interesting." Zim said, suddenly taking off, still clutching the bird tightly. He rushed into the skool locker room and shoved him into the nearest locker.

"h-hey what do you think you're doing?" Mike stuttered.

"You can stay there for a while. Zim has important things to take care of! IMPORTANT THINGS!" He yelled, walking off to class.

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><p>Dib was already there, sitting smugly in his seat. Zim glared evily at him. Thanks to Gir, he could no longer pull off his elaborate plan for revenge and he would have to tolerate whatever nonsense Dib decided to throw at him today.<p>

"So…" Dib said casually, walking over to Zim's desk. "Did you see Mysterious Mysteries last night?" he asked with a smirk.

"No I didn't, Dib-worm. I have far better things to do than waste time watching pathetic human television." He lied.

"Oh, shame." Sneered Dib. "It was really _interesting_, after all."

At this, Zim twitched in irritation. He hated keeping up facades and felt too angry to lie his way out of being taunted.

"Damn you, filthy earth-human." Zim growled, seething with rage.

"So you did see it!" Dib smirked. He couldn't wait to see what the alien would do now.

"The joke's on you, Dib-human! Your little practical joke has actually been MOST BENEFICIAL." Zim bluffed again.

Dib raised an eyebrow. "Oh, how so?" he asked.

"Well….you see….um….FOOLISH HUMAN! ZIM WILL NOT TELL YOU HIS ELABORATE AND GENIUS PLANS!" He resorted to yelling loudly, as he always did when things stopped going his way.

"Pff….you have no plan!" Dib gloated.

"YOU LIE!" Zim shouted, pointing dramatically. "ZIM DOES HAVE A PLAN! GIR, NOW!" Zim commanded. Just then, Gir jumped through the window, throwing sandals and mushrooms at Dib. Bewildered, Dib fled the classroom.

"HAHA! VICTORY TO ZIM!" Zim laughed manically.

Meanwhile, Mike the Headless Chicken had just escaped from the locker. Feeling like giving the green-skinned boy who'd shoved him in there a piece of his mind, he searched around the skool till he found Zim's classroom.

"YOU!" Mike yelled.

Zim whipped round to see the headless chicken standing in the doorway. "What is it now, political bird-creature?" he asked.

"You shoved me in a locker!" the chicken accused.

"I did. So?"

"That's mean!"

"It's not! You're a chicken! You don't pay tax! You have no right to complain about your pampered life! INSOLENT EARTH-BEAST"

"But that has NOTHING TO DO with me being SHOVED in a LOCKER!"

"Oh, but it does. You see, it's YOUR FAULT! The economy is suffering because of you CHICKENS with all your LEGAL RIGHTS and BENEFEIT SCHEMES!"

"But my people DESERVE RESPECT! We must be treated with COURTESY for all that we've CONTRIBUTED to SOCIEETY"

"You INSOLENT CHICKENS deserve NOTHING!"

The whole class gathered round to watch Zim arguing with the famous political figure. And winning.

Mike the Headless Chicken was becoming humiliated and flustered. How had this turned into a debate?

"Y-you're a racist pig!" he accused.

The class looked at Zim, then back to Mike. It was commonly known that everyone loved the chickens for their glorious meat, and racism towards them was almost unheard of. Just then, Dib burst back into the classroom, pointing at Zim in a way that greatly resembled Phoenix Wright.

"The chicken speaks the truth! Zim is an ALIEN!" Dib yelled.

"I never said that!" Mike squawked.

"But it's true-" Dib started before being cut of by Zim's shouting.

"FOOLISH BIRD-THING! CAN YOU NOT SEE THAT DIB IS THE REAL RACIST HERE?" Zim yelled. "HE CALLED ME AN ALIEN!"

The class began murmuring in agreement, although it was no great feat to persuade a bunch of gullible humans.

"Yeah!"

"Dib's a racist!"

They all started calling out., easily convinced by Zim's enraged yelling. Mike pondered how the masses were so easy to convince with a few harsh words.

"PECISELY! ONLY A RACIST COULD GET AWAY WITH HAVING SUCH A HUGE HEAD!" Zim continued.

The class all seemed to agree, gathering around Dib and taunting him. Mike stared at the green student.

_Damn, how does he do it? _He thought.

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><p><strong>AN hurray! More politics! Kind of!**

**I finally got round to finishing this, and I think it turned out pretty well. There was a lot more dialogue in this chapter….I sure hope it makes sense to you guys.**

**So things are getting a bit more interesting now. Stay tuned for more political insanity in the next chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4

Zim For President

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><p><span>Chapter 4: stuff happens<span>

One week later…

"That chicken…" cursed Zim after finding out that Mike would be returning to Skool of all places to make a promotional speech. Frankly, he'd have preferred President Man. At least you could poke fun at him. Mike, on the other hand, Mike's name had made its way onto Zim's ever-growing shit list.

Turning off the TV, he decided that his regular report to the Almighty Tallests was well overdue. He turned on the monitor that was cleverly concealed ass a picture of….some….. sort of…. monkey…..and contacted them.

"My Tallests, I have many interesting things to report." Zim began.

Red and Purple rolled their eyes. "Oh, really?" they asked sarcastically.

"Yes. You see, the humans are stupider than I had thought."

The tallests slurped loudly on their soft-drinks, Interrupting Zim.

"As I was saying-" Zim said again, irritated.

Red yawned loudly and Purple munched fervently on potato chips.

"Listen to me!" Zim yelled. The Almighty Tallests paused for a second, then returned to their snacks as though Zim weren't there. Frustrated, Zim switched off the large monitor and stomped off to the base in a terrible mood.

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><p><em>That's odd,<em> thought Dib as he typed away at his computer. _Meatipedia is down. Crap, now how can I do my research? _He decided to investigate, and after consulting a few reluctant Swollen Eyeballs members, he learned that Meatipedia was offline due President Man's bid to make the internet copyright-friendly. _What a joke. Without blatant plagiarism, the internet is nothing!_

After thinking about it, Dib came to dislike the idea more and more. He figured that it was nothing to worry about, though, as such a crazy proposition would never go ahead anyways, since President Man and his lackeys wouldn't know the first thing about the internet to begin with, anyways.

Unfortunately though, and due to some tragic turn of events, the Stop Lemon-flavoured Online Piracy Act, or SLOPA, went ahead after all, and after checking his Pootube account, Dib found that all his crucial videos that were necessary for convincing mankind of the existence of aliens had all been removed due to some sort of copyright infringement. Something had to be done. SLOPA was interfering with his plans to save humanity from an alien invasion. He had to protest somehow, but occupying a public area in protest did nothing but teach people about percentages. No, he needed a better method if he wanted to save his beloved internet and eventually all of humankind.

"Dib! It's time for Skool!" Yelled Gaz. "Or you could just fester in your room for a million years, I don't care either way."

Hurrying down the stairs, Dib decided that his plans for stopping SLOPA in its tracks would have to wait.

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><p>Zim entered Skool to find a bunch of camera crews and bodyguards there. That's right. Mike the Headless Chicken was campaigning here today. But why Skool of all places? That chicken was almost as crazy as the humans. And at least ten times as smart, which made him quite the considerable foe.<p>

Which was why Zim had chosen this day in particular to assassinate the soon-to-be president. If he could prevent this bird's rise to power, then humanity would continue to be weak, stupid and ignorant; prime conditions for an invasion.

What bothered Zim about this was that Mike never made any moves himself. He just sat at the back of the class and observed. Maybe he wasn't here to campaign after all. But in that case, what business could he have here? Zim frowned and continued to stare at the chicken, for once in his life wishing that something _were_ a grotesque pile of processed meat. He would have to bide his time, until an opportunity to dispose of Mike arose.

That opportunity presented itself several hours later, when Mike managed to slip out of the classroom unnoticed by his legion of bodyguards. Zim followed him and watched him enter the storeroom. Waiting quietly outside for a moment, Zim activated his PAK legs and scurried quickly in after Mike, preparing to skewer him alive on on of his pointy robotic limbs.

"I have you now, pathetic bird-creature!" Zim laughed menacingly as he sprang on Mike, only to find that there was someone else in the room. Someone with a ridiculously big head.

"Dib-stink? Why must you always interfere with Zim's plans?" The Irken shrieked. "What were you two DOING in here?"

"That's what she said." Dib sniggered, changing the subject.

"Who is this 'She'? Do they also pose a threat to Zim's MIGHTY PLANS?" Zim demanded.

"Nevermind…." Dib said.

"TELL ME!"

"Go away."

"Fine," spat Zim, hissing in frustration. "I'll leave you two _In Private._" He'd just have to find another way of eliminating the headless chicken. As he sneaked back to class, he thought of something he'd never previously considered. If it was easy enough for a headless chicken to gain the humans' trust and use it for their own wicked means, then it would be a walk in the park for the Mighty Zim. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Zim smiled wickedly.

_I believe I have the answer to eliminating Mike, humiliating Dib, and learning EVERYTHING about the human race whilst manipulating them like fat, meaty puppets. Yes, Zim shall wade into the endlessly repeating and fruitless bitchfight known as politics!_

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><p>"So, what were you saying?" Dib asked Mike as soon as Zim was out the door, suspicious about what the fascist chicken could want with him.<p>

"I need your help, Dib." He said flatly, just as mistrusting of Dib as Dib was of him.

"Why me?" Dib asked. "I don't support your corrupt and false ideals."

"We are united by two common enemies:" Though Mike did not have a face, if he did it would be twisted into a devilish smirk. "Zim and SLOPA."

"How did you know I hate SLOPA? And what have you got against that ALIEN?"

"That's not important right now. What's important is that if you help me stop President Man and SLOPA (and rule America with an iron fist), I shall expose Zim for you using my newfound power as President."

Dib didn't know what to say. He was delighted at the opportunity to expose Zim as an alien once and for all, but he still couldn't trust a bird without a face. You could never tell what it was thinking, or rather, what would be in store for America should it replace President Man. Just then, about twenty bodyguards surrounded Dib and he knew that he had no choice but to accept.

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><p><strong>AN DUNDUNDUN! Hooray for cliffhangers! With blackmail! Fabulous blackmail!**

**I don't know how you'll receive the whole SOPA thing, but I thought it'd be cool to see how the characters reacted to real-world situations, such as EVERY INTERNET NERD'S IMPENDING DOOM! I shall stop ranting about SOPA now, because it got old as soon as the internet heard about it. Let's just hope is spared from their wrath.**


	5. Chapter 5

Zim for president

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><p><span>Chapter 5: meat and cookies<span>

"Okay, so what's our first course of action?" Dib asked as he sat over the table from Mike at Bloaty's Pizza Hog.

"Before we do anything else, we must have the stopping of SLOPA as our first priority." Mike answered, picking awkwardly at the pizza with his chicken feet. (yes, Mike eats meat. He is an evil and twisted bird. I don't know HOW exactly he does it, what with having no head, but he eats meat.)

"But why do we need to stop SLOPA first? I mean, I know _why,_ but, _why_?" Dib questioned as he watched the bird gulp pizza down what was left of its oesophagus.

"The internet is sacred to my people." Mike replied, for the first time showing some emotion. "We chickens thrive on the internet and its loopholes for piracy. Take away internet piracy, and half of my species will be out of a job. And we all know what happens to unemployed chickens." He explained, pointing to his nonexistent head. Dib remained silent, before remembering that they were meant to be discussing strategy.

"So how will we get President Man to cancel SLOPA?" Mike paused, not fully knowing the answer.

"I suppose we could try bribing him, though I don't know exactly how…." The chicken mused. Dib tried to think back to all the times he'd met President Man, then remembered a crucial detail.

"NINJA STAR COOKIES!" He yelled a bit too loudly. Mike looked up from his pizza in confusion, grease and bits of pepperoni dripping from his neck.

"….what?"

"That's his weakness. We bring ninja star cookies into the picture and President Man does whatever he must in order to obtain them. It's foolproof."

"And you're sure this will work?"

"Positive. Now, TO THE KITCHENS!" Dib yelled, grabbing Mike by the neck and speeding out of the putrid pizza restaurant.

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><p>Zim stood in the center of the shopping mall, accompanied by Gir who was dressed like some sort of bodyguard, complete with the huge robotic limbs and armour. He was so elated by his new plan to hijack the government that he'd completely forgotten about his failure to assassinate Mike the Headless Chicken.<p>

"HEAR ME, FILTHY EARTH HUMANS!" He yelled, gaining the attention of one or two shoppers, the rest of them too busy to care.

"I AM ZIM, YOUR ALL-POWERFUL LEADER! DO AS I COMMAND AND YOU SHALL BE REWARDED WITH PIGS! MANY, MANY PIGS!" This caught the attention of a few more pedestrians, as the majority of Earth's population are pig enthusiasts. They formed a small crowd around the Irken to see what he had to say.

"Yes, yield to my command and the Almighty Zim shall grant you PIGGIES!" Zim called, shaking his fist as he did so. "YOU WILL HAVE YOUR PIGGIES AND USE THEM FOR JUSTICE!"

At this, some people began clapping, others just stared with confused expressions. Gir began throwing piggies at everyone whilst squealing hysterically. As the crowd received their piggies, they erupted into cheers of approval. Zim grinned evily.

"Muahaha…..Yes earth-humans, have your piggies for now, but soon I shall rule you all with an iron fist!"

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><p>"OM NOMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOMNNOM!" Munched President Man after eating his eighteenth batch of ninja star cookies. Dib and Mike looked on, slightly disgusted.<p>

"So, you're going to cancel SLOPA now, right?" Dib asked. There was a long pause before President Man finally stopped eating. Dib was surprised that he and Mike had been let into the Wite Howz so easily, most of the security guards were either asleep or staring at pictures of pigs, whichever one made them less attentive. Wiping the crumbs off his face, President Man finally spoke.

"Well, I'll need time to think about this. Perhaps a few more ninja star cookies would help." He said casually. Dib cursed under his breath. It had cost him a small fortune to make all those cookies, and in the end he'd had to brainwash a few girlscouts into helping him make them. How many cookies could one man eat anyways? Dib briefly considered putting ACTUAL shuriken in the cookies so that he wouldn't have to endure president Man's disgusting eating habits (Honestly, he was almost as bad as Mike at Bloaty's Pizza Hog). Sighing, he reluctantly handed over another huge tray full of cookies.

Meanwhile, Mike was growing more irritated by the second. Sitting right before him was the man who'd KIDNAPPED him, and here he was feeding him COOKIES. He reminded himself that he'd just have to bide his time, and he'd finally get his revenge at the elections. He watched (how does he see things without a head, anyway?) President Man noisily finish his cookies, then slump back down at his desk.

"Are you cancelling SLOPA then?" Dib pined impatiently.

"Sure, little girl. Consider it done." He said before yawning loudly and passing out at his desk. It was _probably_ a bit of a health risk eating so much in one go anyways.

"Wait, why'd he call me a girl?" Dib wondered aloud before noticing that he was still wearing his (very effeminate) kitchen apron. _Oh, well._

Dib and Mike walked out of the Wite Howz triumphantly.

"So we're onto the next phase of our plan now…." Mike observed.

"Um, actually, there's something I have to do first. It's kind of really important." Dib said.

"What?" Mike tilted the remains of his head.

"As a paranormal investigator, I am obliged to observe my targets daily." Dib explained with an air of class.

"So you're stalking the green kid?" The chicken said flatly.

"Yes! Wait, no…."

"Well, you do your stalking and we'll meet same place same time tomorrow." As Mike said this, Dib turned to leave. "Oh, and Dib," The chicken called. "If you're not at our meeting place on time, I'll have no choice but to send my bodyguards after you!" Dib gulped. As convenient as working alongside Mike was, he was kind of pissed at how he'd been forced into the deal and Mike made sure that he wouldn't be backing out in a hurry.

* * *

><p>-Several hours later-<p>

Zim was still yelling nonsense to the shoppers in the mall. By now, a lot of people had gathered around him and the security guard watched him suspiciously. They were probably supposed to stop him or arrest him or something, but they were far too busy looking at pictures of pigs. A reporter was among the crowd, but on closer inspection it was probably just some guy in a hat; not much difference anyways.

The reporter/ random dude in a hat raised his hand and caught Zim's attention.

"Mr. Zim," he shouted. "What do you plan on doing about the current economic crisis, and what about all the immigrants flooding in? And how about the war in New Spain?"

Zim paused, caught off guard by the shrewd human's questions. What _did_ all those words mean? It was the first time all day that one of the humans had questioned his policies, or even said anything smart.

"Well, I, um…." Zim stuttered, not knowing how to respond. Just then, he felt a familiar searing pain hit him in the back. "MMMEEAATT!" He screamed, running around like a rabid animal trying to get the deadly substance off him. He would've bathed in paste that morning and averted this crisis had Gir not ATE ALL OF THE PASTE.

Dib smirked from behind a trash can, having just thrown several pounds of dripping raw chicken at his arch-rival (Mike was against this idea, as he said it was a waste of perfectly delicious meat. Yes, Mike is a cannibal.) His grin widened as he watched Zim writhing in agony, his colleague Mike would find that as a paranormal investigator, Dib did much more than simply "stalk the green kid." Oh, no. Dib was sure that even the genius Mike would be impressed by the surprise attack that he'd just pulled off. And the crowd around Zim had gone crazy, undoubtedly because they'd now realised that Zim was an alien. _All in a good day's work_. Thought Dib as he watched the chaos unfold.

_Wait…._ They weren't in uproar at all….they were _CHEERING._ But why? All Zim had done was yell "meat" really loudly after being asked a series of impossible questions. _Oh._. Dib then recognised what he'd just done. He'd just helped Zim reveal the answer to life, the universe, everything. And now Zim was even more popular.

"Curse you, meat!" Dib yelled, before throwing down the remainder of his raw chicken then walking away disappointedly.

* * *

><p><strong>AN Yes, Zim did just win the favour of the masses by randomly shouting 'meat'. It was SUPER EFFECTIVE! Ahem, well, I hope you liked this chapter and don't forget to review!**


	6. Chapter 6

Zim For President

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><p><span>Chapter 6: Sweetrolls and a stick of fishies<span>

Zim's ranting continued for the rest of the day, with Dib growing more irritated throughout.

"For God's sake!" He yelled for the umpteenth time. "He's an ALIEN! Why would you want to vote for an alien? Just look at him! Can't you see his green alien skin?" Some members of the crowd turned around when he said this, they all stared at Dib accusingly.

"Well, we've had a black president," said one of them. "So why can't we have a green one?" As she pointed this out, other members of the crowd began to agree.

"Yeah, that's right!"

"The big-headed kid is racist!"

"Racist! Racist!" The crowd began to yell, shoving a humiliated Dib out of the mall. _Why does this always happen?_ He thought, seriously annoyed. He tried to push his frustration aside as he remembered he was supposed to meet with Mike the Headless Chicken in half an hour.

* * *

><p>Zim returned to his base, triumphant in his newest plan's sucess.<p>

"Those foolish humans shall blindly follow Zim's lead and then this planet shall belong to THE ALMIGHTY IRKEN EMPIRE!" He yelled whilst laughing evily.

"Um, not to interrupt you or anything," Computer interrupted. "But you'll never guess what I found the other day."

"SILENCE, COMPUTER-SLAVE THING! DO NOT INTERRUPT ZIM WHILST HE IS BUSY!"

"But you're not doing anything…" Computer pointed out.

"I SAID SILENCE!" Zim shouted again. There was a long pause before the computer remembered what it was going to say.

"Anyhow, I was rooting around my files out of boredom one day, and guess what I found?"

"What?" Zim snapped irritably.

"For the past few weeks, we've been being watched 24/7." Computer said so casually it was sinister. Zim's antennae twitched.

"I thought as much…" He said, but he hadn't really had a clue. He had, however, realised that this explained how the video of him talking had made its way to prime-time TV. "Curse you, Dib." He said quietly before shaking his fist at the ceiling. "CURSE YOU!" He yelled much louder before seemingly recovering from his short bout of anger and walking over to the monitors like nothing had happened. He sat there perfectly still for at least a minute before standing up again.

"Gir!" He called. The dysfunctional SIR unit skipped into the base right away, eating what looked like some kind of medieval muffin. Zim snatched the muffin-thing from him.

"What is this…..pork-cow?" He asked, examining the foodstuff curiously.

"NOOOOO!" Gir wailed. "YOU STOLE MAH SWEETROLL!" He said, crying robot tears. Finding Gir's screeching somewhat disturbing and very loud, Zim promptly handed the sweetroll-thing back to Gir.

"YAY! SWEEEEEEEETROLLL!" Gir laughed, munching down the doughnut-muffin-cake-thing.

Zim cleared his throat. "Ahem. Gir, I want you to go completely crazy." He ordered with a serious tone. Gir's eyes changed from pale blue to red and he saluted.

"Yes, my master!" He said, then ran straight up the walls in a way that probably defied some sort of laws of gravitation. Zim grinned as he watched his robot go berserk all over his base. _This shall be an adequate distraction for Dib. _He contemplated his genius idea. _And it's much easier than hiding all my equipment in a bag of potato chips, as I'd originally planned, should this situation have arose._(woah, OOC smartness o_O.)

Convinced that Gir going crazy and stuff would be a sufficient distraction from his doings, Zim turned his attention back to Computer. He called the machine to re-activate.

"Computer! I need information!" He demanded.

"Ugh, fine…..what is it?" Computer answered lazily.

"Since I am now commencing with my plan to snatch leadership of the USA, I need more information on my adversaries." Zim said in a refined tone.

"What, so you want to know who else is running for president?" Computer asked.

"Yes, you insolent machine! Now FEED ME INFORMATION!" Zim commanded.

"Well," computer began. "Other than President Man and Mike the Headless chicken, with whom you are already acquainted with, there are in total around sixty major parties and their candidates."

"Yes, go on." Zim yawned, not even listening to the facts that HE'D specifically requested. He thought he'd heard something about parties….he really hated those, what with their large content of meat and loud noise that humans called 'music'…

"None of these parties really stand a chance of getting a majority vote, but I'll tell you about them anyways, starting with the most influential: the Stick of Fishies Party."

"The what?" Zim asked.

"The Stick of Fishies Party: Other than President Man's 'Insert Party Name Here' Party, and Mike the Headless Chicken's 'My people will evolve into chicken zombies and eat all your brains' Party, the one that stands the most chance of getting the minimum of 3 votes needed to win the elections is the Stick of Fishies party lead by M'aiq the Lair."

"Mike?" Zim asked, confused.

"No, M'aiq." Computer corrected, pronouncing it with a weird accent.

"Well, he sounds like an illegal immigrant." Zim said dismissively.

"I guess you could say that…" Computer wondered.

"NOW! Tell me more about this…Stick of Fishies Party."

"Well, their slogan is 'Stick of Fishies Party knows many things, and tells some. Stick of Fishies Party knows things that other Parties do not."

"That's an odd slogan. Much more…..original than President Man's 'Insert Slogan Here' or Mike's 'All your brains are belong to us'. Of course, Zim's slogan is far superior to all of them." Zim said.

"Um, what is your slogan, anyways?" Computer asked.

"I haven't decided yet…..But it shall be FAR SUPERIOR." Zim replied. "Now, what to do about this immigrant candidate-thing….he doesn't pose much of a threat to the mighty Zim, but maybe I can use him in some way….Computer!"

"What now?"

"Show me the 'Stick of Fishies' Party's website. I need to know what inferior plans that they are planning." Computer displayed the site's homepage, which was adorned with random pictures of dragons, mudcrabs and sweetrolls, but not much information. The homepage only said some sort of nonsense about how people should wear clothes more often. Zim scrutinised the odd site closely for any information that he could use. Finding nothing, he opted for a change of plan.

"I think I'll arrange a meeting with this…..M'aiq the Liar." Zim decided, standing up and preparing to leave, only to find the ENTIRE base crammed full of SWEETROLLS. Looking around in confusion, he just remembered that he'd given Gir one of the stupidest orders ever.

Now his base was in utter turmoil, and he'd probably have to dig his way out of all the sweetrolls. Zim facepalmed and hoped that this trip to see M'aiq the Liar would be worth the terrible state that Gir had left his base in.

* * *

><p><strong>AN COUNT THE ELDER SCROLLS REFERENCES! COUNT THEM I SAY!**

**Anyhow, M'aiq the Liar is copyright of Bethesda Game studios and, well I guess Mike the Headless Chicken is sort of copyrighted by his owners, as he was once a real-live chicken. The next chapter will be less random, I think. Probably. Maybe. What do you think Zim's slogan should be? I'd love to know.**

**Stay tuned, Doods!**


	7. Chapter 7

Zim For President

Chapter 7: LIES!

Zim sat in the shiny waiting room, awaiting the arrival of fellow politician, M'aiq the Liar. He drummed his fingers impatiently against the small glass end table. Gir was scampering around the room excitedly, raiding several cupboards for sweetrolls. He tried speaking to the slightly dead-looking receptionist at the centre of the room again, but as soon as he approached her, she squealed really loudly until he went away again. _No wonder this guy has so few appointments. _He thought. Normally, human receptionists were supposed to actually _speak_ to people when they approached. This one seemed somewhat possessed, though.

He'd arrived at the 'Stick of Fishies' Party's main office about twenty minutes ago, after having to use the lasers equipped on his Voot Runner to destroy the remaining mountain of Tamriel desserts filling every inch of his base. From there, he'd had to bribe several rabid-looking hobos (some of which were _clearly _illegal immigrants, Zim could tell from their scaly skin and forked tongues) to tell him where he could find the unsuccessful political party's HQ. You see, after asking around a little, Zim found that the majority of the Stick of Fishies party's supporters were filthy immigrant hobos, many of which were clearly mutated to the point of possessing tails, spiky heads, more than two rows of sharp teeth or a combination of the three. Either that or they were just plain ugly, as is the case with most humans that Zim mistook for hideous mutants. The point was, that before arriving at the office, Zim had had to speak to way more hobos than he should've done, and he'd probably contracted several deadly diseases in the process.

He tried asking the receptionist about his appointment for the third time, this time not earning himself a symphony of demonic screeching from the clearly possessed human.

"Excuse me, possessed greeting drone; I had an appointment with your almighty immigrant overlord five minutes ago. Where is he?" The Irken asked impatiently.

"One does not simply speak with M'aiq the Liar." The receptionist replied, now apparently cured of her demonic possession and speaking in what seemed to be some variation of a Russian accent.

"Yes, I understand that your mighty leader is extremely busy plotting his next plans for national domination and has no time in his schedule to chit-chat with his deadly rivals but WHERE IS HE?" Zim yelled in frustration, noticing the receptionist's whiskers twitch as he raised his voice. _Shouldn't Earth women shave more often?_ Thought Zim as he stared at her face covered by patterned fur.

"I have no idea." She said bluntly, before snapping out of her brief period of sanity and resuming her demonic screeching, throwing large blue crabs at Zim on his way out.

Landing face down on the pavement outside, Zim quickly got up and dusted himself off before yelling and shaking his fist at the possessed, hairy, whiskered Russian.

"INSOLENT GREETING DRONE! I SHALL FIND YOUR LEADER SOMEHOW!" He exclaimed before marching off to go find the Mysterious M'aiq the Liar.

* * *

><p>"Well, did you have fun stalking your alien friend?" Mike the Headless chicken asked, clearly pissed about Dib being seven minutes late for their meeting. This time he'd brought several hulking bodyguards with him, some of whom seemed to be infected with avian influenza. Dib gulped nervously, and remembered that he was dealing with someone who would have no problem with having him assassinated in secret at the first sign of him not fully cooperating with the bird.<p>

"S-sorry for being late." He stammered, seething on the inside from having to work with such an evil bird.

"What was that?" Mike snapped, crumbs of Popcorn Chicken dotted all over his plumage.

"Sorry, _Your Supreme Chickenyness_." He corrected himself, spitting out Mike's self-proclaimed title with disdain.

"Much better." Mike said before digging into a turkey leg about twice his weight. Dib idly wondered if chickens could suffer coronary heart attacks from consuming so much meat. Then he decided that they probably could, and that it was probably better if they did. "So, did you find out anything useful to our plans?" Mike interrupted Dib's murderous thoughts with his slightly sarcastic question.

"Humans love meat." Dib said plainly, stating probably the only useful piece of information he'd been able to gather yesterday, despite having spied on Zim's base all last night; all he'd been able to see then were mountains and mountains of sweetrolls.

"Hm…" Mike wondered, for once not stuffing his face with the greasy flesh of his slaughtered and fried brethren. "So all I have to do is give them meat, and I'm sure to maintain my place as favourite to win the elections?" he summarized.

"Yeah, pretty much." Dib said.

"As long as there's no worthy opposition, I'll be fine according to this new strategy. And speaking of worthy opposition, I trust that you've figured out some way to dispose of our green-skinned friend." Mike said, sounding more like a mafia boss than a headless chicken running for president.

"I thought you said you'd expose him as an alien." Dib pointed out, reminding Mike of his side of the bargain.

"We both know that no-one will believe that crap." Mike stated bluntly.

"Well, what else can we do?" Dib asked helplessly.

"Just keep watching him for now. And remember that I'll be watching _you_." Mike threatened before choking down another turkey leg.

Dib left the dingy fast-food place feeling thoroughly pissed. That damn chicken had _promised_ he'd expose Zim as an alien! Now it seemed like Dib was just doing all the dirty work for him. As he walked down the street, he let his mind wander back to the day that they'd met, and how Mike had seemed to know all about his and Zim's great and flaming rivalry.

_How did this chicken come to know so much about him?_

* * *

><p>After several hours of running around aimlessly in a forest, Zim had finally found him. He stared admiringly at the cloaked figure standing on the road. <em>So this is M'aiq the Liar. <em>He certainly had the potential to become a valuable pawn in Zim's plans, judging by his league of diseased followers and the huge difficulty of actually finding the guy. Zim could have swore that M'aiq just wandered wherever he pleased for no reason at all, other than it being a nightmare to locate him, since he never stayed in one place.

"Hey! Filthy earth political fag!" Zim called to him. The cloaked figure turned around, disinterested.

"M'aiq has no time for talk." He said, in the same not-quite-Russian accent as his receptionist. Zim also noticed that they both had a hairy face with whiskers.

"You shall speak to Zim, furry mutant scum! Or else Zim will tell everyone your MIGHTY SECRET!" Zim proclaimed. He was certain that the illegal immigrant would respond to his blackmail.

"You knew?" Mike exclaimed, shocked. "Fine, fine. M'aiq will talk, but beware: M'aiq knows much, perhaps too much. Perhaps M'aiq knows some things that should not be known by anyone. Perhaps it would be very bad for little green child to know what M'aiq knows."

"Just get on with it!" Zim commanded.

"What would little green child like to know?" M'aiq asked.

"Your party has been going for several years now. How is it that you haven't been eaten by Mike the Headless Chicken yet? Because that disgusting animal-beast has been doing that to smaller party leaders quite a lot recently." Zim enquired, his unnaturally large eyes staring curiously at M'aiq.

"You see, it all started when M'aiq was a small kitten. His brothers and sisters were all sold to the showbiz industry, and M'aiq's parents were always too busy selling skooma-er-I mean _potions_ to care for M'aiq. So M'aiq began finding other things to do, as there was nobody to play with him. M'aiq would perhaps chase butterflies, or perhaps annoy some giants, once, M'aiq even rode a moose-"

"YOU LIE!" Zim yelled, flailing his arms randomly.

"Foolish green child. M'aiq does not lie. M'aiq only tells what others do not wish to hear. That is why M'aiq does not see headless chickens as a threat to his livelihood; Because M'aiq told Mike once that M'aiq had seen a dragon. A dragon that eats chickens, and that if Mike tormented M'aiq, dragon would swoop down and eat Mike. And take Mike's WiFi. That is why Mike no longer bothers M'aiq. Also, M'aiq will require as payment for this knowledge a Colovian Fur Helm. They are very stylish, and-"

"LIIIESSS!" Zim screeched. M'aiq raised a furry eyebrow, before continuing.

"Feet are for walkin-"

"LIAR!"

"Levitation is for fools, once you-"

"YOU LIE!"

"It is good that the people wear clothing, M'aiq-"

"YOU'RE LYING!"

M'aiq paused, severely annoyed from being interrupted so many times.

"M'aiq is done talking." He finally said, before taking off at an impossible speed into the distance.

**AN/ Meh. Not much to say about this chapter, except that I should probably stop with all these references. On a lighter note, I just so happened to be watching an old episode of the Simpsons where everyone eats loads of meat, and It made me smile. And remember that I was supposed to actually UPDATE my story.**

**So yeah. Stay tuned!**


	8. Chapter 8

Zim for President

**AN/ I know I haven't updated in a while, and I wish I had a good excuse for not doing so. The painful truth, however, is that I simply could not be arsed. Anyhow, read it and stuff.**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 8: more stuff happens<span>

_The next day…_

The chicken was hiding something. Dib just knew it. Beneath the smug demeanour of a cannibal bird was a dark, horrid secret. What this secret was, or even the nature of it, Dib was not sure of. But there was definitely something. In the short amount of time Dib had worked with him, he'd picked up on some of Mike's habits which revealed just a little of what he was thinking. Firstly; the bodyguards: though it was normal for politicians to have with them a force of tall, offending figures in sunglasses, Mike took this to new extremes. He'd even taken to bringing them to his and Dib's supposedly secret meetings. There was also the excessive threatening that Mike thought was necessary to have Dib cooperate with him, the excessive blackmailing seemed somewhat uncalled for. Finally, the chicken's knowledge of what Dib had thought no-one else knew; Mike knew about Dib's epic rivalry with Zim. To Dib, a master of investigation, these quirks all pointed to one piece of information that no amount of research or bribery could have gained.

Yes, Mike the Headless Chicken was paranoid. Perhaps morbidly so. There was more to this bird than mere hunger for both meat and power.

But what could cause such a confident being to be secretly paranoid? Before he could trust his business partner, Dib had to investigate further. Perhaps this was all triggered by a traumatic childhood incident? Or maybe there was something that Mike was afraid of, something he was hiding from. Something big, something so terrifying that even a future world leader such as Mike would be unable to sleep soundly.

If Dib could find out the chicken's one weakness, the reason for his paranoia, then he and Mike could work together as equals, rather than master and henchman. Because they'd both have something to use against the other. Dib would have the knowledge of Mike's weakness, and Mike already knew enough to put Dib in a mental asylum.

Then he'd make the chicken use his influence to expose Zim.

So he began his research into Mike's past much like he began every other of his schemes; by annoying the crap out of random Swollen Eyeballs agents until they told him enough to leave them alone.

* * *

><p><em>Meanwhile…<em>

Mike was making another speech, this time using his plan to mention meat at every possible interval. He'd even got a few helicopters to rain meat down upon the masses like some kind of greasy snowstorm. They were all trying to catch as much of the meaty precipitation as they could, some of the crowd even breaking out into fights over pieces of meat. It was slightly chaotic for a speech, but it was certainly doing so in Mike's favour. If he kept this up, Zim would not pose much of a threat for the time being. Nonetheless, the small green kid was a liability to Mike's plans; the way in which he gained public favour so quickly was scary.

Mike had to eliminate _all_ competition, no matter how powerful or inferior. But more importantly, he had to watch the skies. One could not tell where Mike was looking as he had no head, but he was always checking the sky for dragons. Internet-stealing dragons.

Ever since he was a fluffy chick-animal, Mike had been tormented by bedtime tales of blackouts, slow connections and things in general that could stop chickens from making their living off internet piracy. Throughout his life, he'd been terrified of all the anti-internet creatures that stalked the vast forest of civilisation. Terrible creatures such as the lag-elephant, the beast of Banhammer and worst of all, the internet-stealing dragons. So when he discovered that one of his rivals were acquainted with an infamous internet-stealing dragon, he began to worry. Mike dared not oppose him for fear that the internet-stealing dragon would steal his internets, and now he lived every day in fear of it. Of course, Mike had never actually _seen_ a lag-elephant, nor the Beast of Banhammer, nor had he ever seen an internet-stealing dragon. Who would want to see such horrible monsters? But Mike knew that they existed, for he'd been told that they existed. No, Mike was _not_ a gullible bird _at all_.

Mike was about to leave the stage after having made another successful speech when he was confronted by none other than the green kid. And he had with him A DRAGON. Yes, A DRAGON OF PURE INTERNET-STEALING. Mike noticed that it was smaller than he'd expected but it was there all the same. Mike let out a startled squawk at seeing the beast and was so shocked that he actually laid an egg. (yes mike is actually a female chicken, if he was male he'd be called Mike the headless COCKEREL, idiots.)

* * *

><p>Zim stood in front of his rival beside Gir in a poorly-crafted purple dragon suit. He grinned evily, having succeeded in scaring Mike shitless (or should I say <em>eggless<em>?) . _Haha, chicken-beast. This is Zim's victory now! Are you not horrified by the monstrous sight you see before you? _Zim began laughing evily. His flawless plans had gone off without a hitch once again. Mike was positively _cowering_ before Gir's brilliant and terrifying disguise.

"What's the matter, salivating animal-beast of questionable gender?" Zim sneered. "It's just a harmless internet-stealing dragon. It's not like it'll EAT you….." He went on, enjoying the frantic state that had come over his opponent. "…Well, it MIGHT eat you…..it is a TERRIFYING DRAGON-MONSTER after all…totally not a robot in a suit….and it SHALL DESTROY YOUR PUNY INTERNETS! And there is NOTHING you can do to stop it! NOTHING!"

Mike stood there for a moment before motioning to his bodyguards who immediately fired a volley of bullets into Gir's dragon suit.

"YAY, I'M FULL O' HOLES!" Gir laughed from under the dragon costume. Zim's heart sank as another group of bodyguards incapacitated Zim and shoved him into a car of some sort.

"..except for that." Mike said, unruffling his feathers and making a peace sign towards the crowd before getting into another of the many sleek black cars stationed nearby. He'd foiled Zim's plan so easily, yet he was still shaken by the thought of that dragon stealing his internets.

In the back of the other car, Zim was cursing and spitting furiously whilst unable to move and sandwiched between two hulking bodyguards who were exhibiting symptoms of some wretched earth-disease.

"UNHAND ME, DISEASED DEFENSE-DRONES! I AM ZIM, YOUR ALMIGHTY LEADER!" He screeched until one of the bodyguards had the sense to shut him up with a tranquilizer. Before losing consciousness, Zim noted that he may have underestimated Mike just a _teensy_ bit, and that the chicken was a complete _head_case (haha, geddit?)

* * *

><p>Dib stared blankly at the TV screen, unable to decide whether to be happy or scared. After having quickly given up on his research on Mike, he thought he'd watch another of the bird's speeches to monitor his behaviour. But then, <em>Zim<em> appearedand Mike suddenly lost it and began squawking like an angrybird on meth. And what was with that weird dragon-thing? After that, Dib was shocked that Mike went as far as to have _arrested_ Zim. But what had Zim done to provoke Mike? _What if….._

_What if Zim had found out Mike's weakness and used it to intimidate him?_

It would certainly explain why Mike lost his cool all of a sudden, and why Zim was now captive to the headless chicken.

So what, then? Find out where they'd taken Zim and just _ask_ him what he knew? Actually….Zim was in a pretty dire situation now, so that just might work…..

* * *

><p><strong>AN I couldn't really find anything funny to put in this chapter, but there shall be much hilarity in the next one, hopefully. Stay tuned for ANOTHER unnecessary guest appearance!**


	9. Chapter 9

Zim For President

**AN/ I swear I'm getting lazier at this, and I think I've put off chapter 9 for long enough.. If only there was some kind of drug to treat the effects of procrastination…**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 9: Super Secret Prison of Super Secret Secrecy<span>

Shortly following his arrest, Zim had been confined to a small cage in a massive underground compound, no doubt built using money from the taxpayer that Mike had shamelessly squandered. Among the in-mates of this secret facility were many bleating humans, some with hands and some without hands. Zim wondered what had happened to the humans without hands, and what they'd done to become Mike's political prisoners. Most of them had probably just got on the chicken's nerves. Either that or they were one of those god-awful parents who keep saying that the internet is bad for you. Zim had figured that an enemy of the internet was an enemy of Mike, what with all the propaganda Mike had been posting recently. Too often had Zim's thoughts of world domination been interrupted by a horrid poster of a human's hands and brains being eaten by zombie chickens, with the caption "OPPOSE THE INTERNET AND YOU OPPOSE YOUR MIGHTY CHICKEN OVERLORDS".

Actually, there were a few posters like that within Zim's cell block. They hung from the ceiling like really creepy flags. What was the point of Zim being locked up, anyway? That stupid chicken even couldn't take a harmless, life-threatening practical joke. "CURSE YOU, MIKE!" He screamed for the billionth time. "I WILL HAVE VENGEANCE!" He shook his fist at the ceiling of his bird-like cage, catching the attention of one of Mike's disease-ridden henchmen.

"Could you keep it down?" He asked in-between bouts of vile and loud coughing. "Some of us are _trying_ to suffer here._ Jeez, _Is it TOO MUCH to ask to be oppressed IN PEACE?" The guard complained before wandering off to infect someone else with his disgusting bird-flu.

"WAIT. Come back here so I can shout at you!" Zim yelled after the guard. _Honestly, the nerve of human meat-slaves today. Anyone would think they weren't being oppressed enough._ Zim noted that if he ever got out of here alive, he'd probably have to acquire some human meat-slaves of his own. You simply can't run for president without an army of human meat-slaves. And speaking of meat, Zim had just worked out why a few of the political prisoners hands were missing. You see, he'd just witnessed feeding time for Mike's Homicidally Insane Hat-Wearing Hand-Eating Llama Squadron, or the HIHWHELS for short. Or 'ARGH! MY ****ING HANDS!' For even shorter. Zim noted that he'd also have to acquire some homicidally insane hat-wearing hand-eating llamas if he wanted to impose his political power. He just hoped that they didn't eat _his _hands.

It seemed that a significant number of human prisoners were now without hands. Oh well, at least their hands were cooked before the llamas ate them. After all everyone KNOWS that eating raw human hands could give you Humanitis, the most deadliest disease EVER. Heck, not even magic pentagrams could cure a case of Humanitis. Symptoms included weight gain, laziness, eating of things that may or may not be real food, dependence on machines, aging, eventual death and utter stupidity. So far, over 100.3% of US citizens had shown signs of infection. _God, humans are disgusting._ Zim thought, looking at the ugly image of all the caged humans without their hands. Then a though occurred to him. Maybe their lack of hands could be exploitable. Perhaps he could somehow use a bunch of handless humans for an escape plan.

No, that was stupid. Even by Zim's standards. After all, what good is a caged, bleating human with no hands? On the other hand, it wasn't like Zim had anything better to do, what with being confined to a cage and all. So it was worth a shot, since he didn't really have much else to lose.

"Attention, snivelling diseased hyuumans!" Zim shouted, catching the attention of a few inquisitive political prisoners. "You are all missing your beloved hands, and have suffered at the hands of a headless bird, WHO ALSO HAS NO HANDS. But hands, or no hands, we must RAISE OUR FISTS IN DEFIANCE OF THE CHICKEN THAT DOES NOT HAVE A HEAD OR ANY HANDS OR A SPECIFIC GENDER! Now, I understand that some of you may lack fists to raise, but fear not, as I, YOUR MIGHTY LEADER SHALL GIVE YOU NEW FISTS! FISTS OF METAL! Maybe even IRON FISTS! And with these IRON FISTS WE SHALL SMITE THE CHICKEN THAT DOES NOT HAVE THE FISTS!" Zim continued as the prisoners looked confused at first, but soon realised that Zim had said _something about fists_. Which of course meant _glorious, horrible freedom_.

"Oh, but first and foremost;" Zim added. "OBEY THE FIST!" He ordered before being pepper-sprayed by a passing human meat-slave.

"_SHUT UP._" The diseased human said, bursting into a coughing fit and foaming at the mouth. The diseased human meat-slave in question suddenly wished he'd became the bodyguard of an evil oppressor that _at least_ had a decent health policy.

Thankfully, Zim's contacts meant that he was immune to the horrid burning of the pepper-spray. Less thankfully, though, was the fact that there was meat somehow mixed up in the spray, so instead of his eyes burning Zim's _fa_ce was burning and he had to deal with having A BURNING FACE. THAT BURNED. A LOT.

* * *

><p><em>Meanwhile, at the front gate to the Super Secret Prison of Super Secret Secrecy…..<em>

"But you have to let me in! I'M SANE!" Dib yelled whilst waving his arms manically.

"No sane person would have a head that huge." The entrance guard pointed out. Dib noticed that this guard too seemed to be infected with avian influenza.

"MY HEAD IS NOT BIG!" Dib screeched.

"You're right." The diseased guard said. "It's not big, it's FRICKEN ENORMOUS! Besides, all visitors have to go through a de-bugging procedure, which most definitely does not involve the loss of any hands or hand-like body parts."

_That made PERFECT SENSE_. "Would a festering slab of meat change your mind?" Dib asked; he hadn't wanted to resort to bribing , but it was clearly the only way he could get in without unnecessary loss of hand-like structures.

"Oh GOD YES!" The guard said, gobbling up the meat in a fashion almost as vile as Mike's eating habits.

"And don't tell your evil chicken overlord that I was here." Dib said, walking past.

"I LOVE YOU. SO MUCH." The guard shrieked. Dib hoped to god that he was talking to the slab of festering meat. Slightly worried, Dib hastened through the heavy steel doors of Mike's Super Secret Prison of Super Secret Secrecy. He hadn't known that Mike even had such a place until he practically demanded to know where Zim had been taken. The fact that Mike had kept such a huge secret from Dib only made him trust his partner less. He definitely needed information that he could use against him if he wanted to have his end of the bargain upheld.

So he had to speak to Zim. But since the alien was incapacitated, Dib would be able to have a little fun with him first.

As he walked through the corridors filled with cages, Dib began to hear an ominous voice.

_Spaaaace…._

_Spaaaaaaaaaaace…_

_Must….escape…..….escape to space…_

It called, sending a small shiver down Dib's spine. Either Mike had used satanic powers to resurrect John F. Kennedy from the grave, or Dib was going slightly mad.

Shrugging, Dib continued warily navigating the prison.

* * *

><p>After Zim's face had mostly stopped burning, he noticed that all the handless humans he'd just been talking to had been eaten by zombie chickens. Annoyed that he no longer had any human meat-pawns to use, he began looking for any other nearby exploitable objects or creatures. Looking down, he spotted a dim yellow light coming from the cage below him.<p>

_Spaaace…._

_Are you there…..?_

_I can't see you, spaaaace…._

_Must…..find….spaaaace….._

_Need…space…_

Zim froze as he heard the eerie calling; he didn't see any other humans nearby.

There was movement n the cage below and Zim saw that the yellow light belonged to the eye of an inquisitive spherical robot.

_Who's there? _The robot asked. _Is that you, space? _

"FOOLISH EARTH-INTELLIGENCE! I am a being far greater than space. I AM ZIM!" Zim yelled.

_I'm….I'M GOIN' TO SPACE! _The yellow-eyed robot yelled.

"Oh? And how will you do that?" Zim taunted.

_Become president…..build spaceship…GO TO SPACE!_

_I'll be the president…..OF SPACE!_

"Wait, you want to be president?"

_Yes…that's why I ended up here…not in space….NOT IN SPACE!_

Zim smiled. It appeared that he wasn't the only competition to be locked up by Mike. Other candidates had been captured too. Perhaps he could make use of this….space sphere.

* * *

><p><strong>AN AND THERE'S YOUR AWESOME GUEST APPEARANCE!**

**At least it's better than a whiny OC…..though OCs don't need disclaimers.**

**I DO NOT OWN THE SPACE SPHERE, VALVE OR PORTAL! DO I LOOK LIKE GABE EFFING NEWELL TO YOU? I'M NOT _THAT_ FAT.**


	10. Chapter 10

Zim For President

Chapter 10: space 

"Mr. President Man! We have a situation!" someone shouted after storming into the office of the Wite Howz, only to find President Man surrounded by loads of cans and wearing a cable like a mayoral sash. "…..what are you even doing?" the confused person asked.

"Business, SERIOUS BUSINESS." President Man replied, making a fort out of empty cans. "I am NOT TO BE INTERRUPTED." he ordered before putting on a pair of furry slippers and adorning his head with a frying pan.

"But Mister President Man, sir! THIS IS AN EMERGENCY." The random extra replied frantically.

"Who are you and why are you in my house?"

"THE INTERNET WANTS US TO DO SOMETHING!" The random extra yelled, waving his arms in distress. "QUICK, EVERYONE! TO THE NUCLEAR VAULT THINGY! WE MUST LIVE THERE IN HIDING AND REPOPULATE THE EARTH ONCE THIS BLOWS OVER!"

"Hold on a minute, random extra…." President Man replied, still wearing the frying pan on his head. "What does the internet want us to do? And WHY should we pay attention to them?"

"They're getting all worked up about child soldiers and stuff, and they…they're MUTATING INTO SOCIAL ACTIVISTS. They're watching moving 30 minute videos, they're telling their friends, and they're LIKING PAGES ON FACEBOOK."

"IMPOSSIBLE! Wait….that's it?"

"yes, DOES IT NOT ALARM YOU?"

"Not really. It doesn't seem like they're doing much."

"DO YOU NOT FEEL COMPELLED TO TAKE ACTION IN THE NAME OF SOCIAL JUSTICE?"

"Nah, I have SERIOUS BUSINESS to take care of first. Go away." President Man said, returning to the vast amount of cans lying around his office.

"Screw you." The random extra said, defeated. "THE INTERNET ALWAYS WINS IN THE END." He screeched as he was being thrown out the door by bird flu-infected bodyguards.

_Meanwhile, in an underground facility with a silly and difficult to type name….._

"SPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—

*6 hours later*

AAAAAAAAAAAACE-!"

"Are you quite done, malfunctioning spherical intelligence?"

"SPACE."

"Stop that."

"WANNA GO TO SPACE."

"Stop it."

"SPAAAAAAACE!"

"MAKE SILENCE NOW!"

"Space."

"SHUT UP."

"Must. See. SPACE."

"AAARGH!" Zim cried. He'd just about had it. He was confined to a tiny cell that resembled a bird-cage, he was up to his head with the bleating of humans whose hands had been eaten, a hat-wearing llama from Mike's elite squad had eaten one of his gloves and he was stuck with a VERY LOUD ROBOT THAT WAS SO NOISY, INSANE AND OBNOXIOUS THAT IT MADE GIR SEEM LIKE A WELCOME ALTERNATIVE. He felt like clawing his own antennae out, he was so irritated. What on Irk had he been thinking when he'd chosen to befriend this hyperactive lump of metal? Judging by his current situation, not much.

He heard footsteps ahead. He hoped to god it wasn't another hat-wearing hand-eating llama. As the footsteps grew closer, Zim's spacey friend grew silent and the figure came closer to reveal….

"DIB-WORM! Why are you here, you wasteful lump of pig-meat!"

"Oh, I was just, y'know, passin' by….happened to come across the secret underground prison of your arch-rival….thought I'd go in, see if they WOULD LISTEN TO ME WITHOUT TELLING ME THAT MY HEAD IS BIG AND THAT I'M CRAZY!"

"Keep it down, unless you want your hands eaten by a squad if rabid llamas."

"Llamas?"

"HAT-WEARING LLAMAS."

"That's nice. NOW TELL ME EVERYTHING YOU KNOW ABOUT MIKE THE HEADLESS CHICKEN!"

"No." Zim refused. At this, Dib yanked a nearby fire extinguisher from the wall and pointed it at Zim.

"TELL ME. Or you can deal with all the terrors of being held prisoner AND be covered in FOAMY STUFF. And speaking of you being imprisoned, how's that working out for you?"

"Quite well, dib-human. I have already determined a suitable escape route and planned my next move against the opposing political parties. I even saw a moose."

"Then why were you whacking your head against the bars of your cage so frantically just a moment ago?"

"I do not have to answer that question, as I am far superior to worthless multi-cellular child organisms such as yourself."

"Then answer this one: WHAT DID YOU DO THAT PROVOKED MIKE ENOUGH TO THROW YOU IN PRISON?"

"I had Gir dress up like a dragon."

"Why?"

"Because I am your mighty leader."

Dib facepalmed. He couldn't get a straight answer, but what had he expected? That the alien just tell him everything? It looked like he'd have to resort to more drastic measures. He readied the fire extinguisher, noticing the warning sign printed on its side; _WARNING: HIGHLY CONCENTRATED MEATYOXIDE. KEEP OUT OF REACH OF MIDGET LEPERS._ Well, that was helpful. It seemed that this fire extinguisher actually contained the most powerful meat alloy known to man, so he'd have tons of fun just squirting it all over the alien's horrid green face.

"I've been wanting to do this for a VERY long time, alien…." Dib grinned evily. He put down the fire extinguisher and grabbed a nearby stick and started poking Zim in the eyes with it.

"You've always been saying that I have a huge head. WELL YOU HAVE FRIGGIN' HUGE EYES, YOU FREAK. AND THEY'RE PINK. THAT'S DISGUSTING. SOMEHOW." He yelled whilst continuously jabbing Zim. Zim was just sitting real still-like. Apparently Irkens cease all bodily functions once poked in the eyes.

"...are you quite finished, you snivelling, stick-wielding earth-monster?" Zim asked once the poking stopped. He was answered by receiving another violent poke to the eye.

"TELL ME." Dib demanded.

"Tell you what?"

"Mike's one and only-"

"What?"

"Mike's-

"WHAT?"

"BE QUIET, ALIEN SCUM! OR ELSE I WILL SPRAY YOU WITH FIRST-GRADE HIGH-CONCENTRATION MEATIOXIDE! AND THEN IF IT DOES NOT KILL YOU I WILL SHOW YOU DISTURBING SLASH FICTION AND CREEPY PAIRINGS!"

Zim shut up for once.

"Now tell me Mike's greatest weakness."

"INTERNET-STEALING DRAGONS. NOW YOU WILL LEAVE ZIM TO PLOT ESCAPE IN PEACE! GO AWAY!"

"Okay. But next time we meet, you'll only be behind another set of bars, Zim."

"LIES! YOU CANNOT DEFEAT MEE! I HAVE GREAT PLANS! THEY ARE FOOLPROOF! FOOLPROOF I SAY!"

Dib ignored Zim's yelling, having gotten what he'd come for. He left hastily, fearing that his hands could be eaten by llamas at any minute.

Zim kicked the space sphere (which had somehow made its way into Zim's cage) furiously. He STILL had no idea on how he was going to escape this place. Since silence had finally fallen throughout the prison, he was able to hear the faint sound of water somewhere far off. Looking up, he saw a fishbowl dangling off the ceiling by a chain. Inside was a weird black goldfish-monster. It was making weird noises; _wub wub wub…_

"Identify yourself, water teatray!" Zim ordered the goldfish.

"wub wub wub."

"IDENTIFY YOURSELF!"

"I am the Dubstep Fish. I shall grant you three wishes, wub wub."

"Why are you here, water teatray of earsplitting noise?"

"Because I ran for president, wub wub."

"A GOLDFISH SHOULD NEVER BE PRESIDENT!" Zim screeched, picking up the space sphere and throwing it with such force that it crashed through the bars of the cage and smashed the dangling fishbowl, leaving the Dubstep Fish floundering on the floor.

"wub wub….wub….tell my children I loathe them…wub….wub…" The Dubstep Fish said just before it was carried into the sky by a shiny escalator.

"Just as planned." Zim said, stepping through the gaping hole in his cell and making a run for it.

He had some politics to do.

**AN/ THE DUBSTEP FISH SHALL GRANT ALL REVIEWERS THREE WISHES, WITH HILARIOUS CONSEQUENCES!**

**Or my name isn't THE GREAT KING OF NEW SPAIN.**

**Now if you'll excuse me, I have SERIOUS BUSINESS to do. *arms self with frying pan***


	11. Chapter 11

Zim for President

Chapter 11: revenge of the Dubstep Fish

After having successfully escaped the Super Secret Prison of Super Secret Secrecy thanks to his genius and totally thought-out plan to violently throw his only present ally at the bars of his cage, Zim had headed back to his base. Upon arrival, he was surprised to hear extremely loud dubstep coming from the kitchen. Curious, he went to investigate only to find Gir still in his dragon suit full of bullet holes dancing next to a fishy apparition. Apparently, Gir had somehow escaped on his own after he was attacked by a raging security mob. But what was with the fishy apparition and ARGH, THAT DUBSTEP HURT HIS HEAD SO MUCH.

"Gir! Explain this horrible noise at once!" He ordered.

"WWWEEOOOOO! WUBWUBWUBWUBWUB!" Gir screeched, continuing to rave to the loud dubstep along with the weird ghost-fish. Said ghost-fish was now levitating towards Zim.

"I am here for vengeance, wub wub." The fishy ghost said. "yoooouuu killeeeddd mmmeeeee….wubwub…" it announced more spookily, flailing its flippers in an attempt to look creepy.

"I did NO SUCH THING." Zim denied. "Now get your brain-crushing spoon-music out of my base!"

"I must be aveeeennngeddd, wub wub…AVEEENNGEEDDD! FOR I AM THE GHOST OF BAD DUBSTEP PAST!" The fish yelled spookily before disappearing in an explosion of purple goo. Unfortunately, the loud dubstep remained.

"URGH….I can't plot world domination within hearing range of this horrid noise….GIR, WE'RE LEAVING!"

"'KAY!"

* * *

><p>3 minutes later, Zim and Gir found themselves far away from the base, surrounded by humans as usual. Which was slightly better than loud dubstep, but not by much. Many of them were frothing at the mouth, and some were not. But frothing at the mouth or not frothing at the mouth, the humans…..were doing stuff. Most disturbing stuff. Now able to think clearly away from the awful racket, Zim began plotting as usual. Winning the humans over from Mike would be no easy feat, after all. He would need a masterfully orchestrated plot of brilliance and pure genius in order to beat that crafty headless chicken. But what would work…..?<p>

_wubwubwub…._

"What was that?" Zim asked aloud. He looked around suspiciously, his antennae twitching under his wig. He _swore_ he'd just heard the faint sound of crappy dubstep. He silently prayed that the dubstep-fish-ghost wasn't following them. Something like that could be a HUGE setback for Zim's MIGHTY PLANS.

"WUB, WUB, WUB. I HAUNT THEE, MURDERER." Zim heard from somewhere nearby.

"SHOW YOURSELF, WATER TEATRAY!" he yelled into the crowd, some people giving him funny looks.

"I HAUUNNTT THEEEE, WUB WUB…." The Dubstep fish's voice echoed ominously. Zim was once again left wondering what on Irk happened. He'd happened to have encountered some sort of ghostly being which he'd killed less than 24 earth-hours ago. On Irk this was sometimes an occurrence; Irken scientographers would often attempt to resurrect deceased creatures through the practice of ectobiology, but the test subjects ended up as either a pile of gloop, or a transparent levitating entity; neither of which were much use. Such beings were usually put on eternal cleaning duty to make up for their miserable and pointless existence.

Whatever the case, he had to find a way of disposing of this ghost before it interfered too much with his plans.

Zim found himself heading towards skool. Although he had no real obligation to go there anymore, it was the only place he could think of with a dark enough aura to keep the fish-ghost at bay. Well, except for the room with a moose, but accessing that particular dimension would require access to a suitable wormhole, and there were none in close enough proximity. Besides, Zim wanted nothing more to do with that awful, awful place. Annoyingly enough, though, the ghost of the Dubstep Fish seemed capable of haunting him even amongst the most cursed of cursed ground. So now Zim was stuck in skool AND exposed to the constant headache that was the foul spoon-music being spewed by the ghostly water teatray that was irritating him more and more by the second, refusing him the right to keep even the smallest of thoughts in his head without losing it to the CONSTANT INFERNAL RACKET THAT EARTH-HUMANS PASSED OFF AS MUSIC.

"AAARGH! Shut UP, FISH-MONSTER! Zim has no time for your haunting! BE LEAVING WITH YOU!" He screeched very loudly, standing up and flipping out in front of the whole class.

"Zim…..who are you talking to?" Dib asked, confused about his arch-rival suddenly losing it and talking to himself with no apparent explanation. The rest of the class seemed too freaked out to say anything.

"Do you not SEE IT, DIB-MONSTER? THE DUBSTEP FISH SHALL HAUNT US ALL! LOOK at it! JUST FLOATING RIGHT THERE! WAVING ITS LIMB-APPENDAGES AND SPEWING VILE SONIC FILTH! GET IT AWAY! FRY IT IN DISGUSTING EARTH-GREASE LKE THE PUTRID BRAIN-MELTING GARBAGE IT IS!" Zim ranted, flailing his arms insanely. The other kids were all generally afraid by now, some of them making a quick escape through the window. One that was still there, however, put his hand up nervously.

"Um… Miss Bitters?" He asked.

"What." The demonic teacher said, materialising out of a dark corner in the wall.

"Can we use this month's crazy card now?"

"Are you sure it's necessary?" Miss Bitters asked. The random kid looked back at Zim, who was now trying to swat an imaginary Dubstep Fish with a frying pan that he'd somehow procured.

"….pretty sure." The child decided. But before Miss Bitters had even had time to call the Crazy House, Zim suddenly ran out of the door, screaming. His screams could be heard for about another minute before he'd cleared off skool property altogether. Miss bitters looked on uncaringly.

"Well, he's someone else's nightmare for now…." She said before disappearing back into the shadows, accompanied by demonic hissing and tentacles.

* * *

><p><em>Meanwhile….<em>

A certain headless chicken was fuming over Zim's escape, munching turkey legs in a most violent manner. He was so angry he could eat someone's hands clean off. In fact, this sounded like a pretty good idea to Mike right about now, so he went ahead and did it, earning a terrified screech from his now handless bodyguard. Speaking of eating hands, Mike decided he'd take out his anger by having his squad of llamas accompany him to his next speech. YES, ALL WHO OPPOSED HIM WOULD LOSE THEIR HANDS IN A MOST VIOLENT MANNER. That would take his mind of the escaped green kid for a while. Hopefully. If not, then there were still a good few mutant hobos that the world could do without. Their brains would be delicious. Some of their brains contained eyeballs, slime and crayons, but they'd still be better than the crappy turkey legs he kept buying.

* * *

><p>"GAH! IT'S INJECTING LOUD DUBSTTEP INTO MY ANTENNAE! GET IT OFF! AAARRGGHH!" And so on. The Ghost of the Dubstep Fish was ever-haunting and tormenting Zim, who was now trying to get the damn earthbeast off his superior head. "YOUUU SNIVELLING PILE OF DOOKIE! GET OFF ZIM'S HEAD RIGHT NOW!"<p>

"Not until you repent,wub wub." The Dubstep fish replied.

"NEVER!" Zim screeched over the horrid migraine of noise that was being blasted through his brain. "YOU SICKEN ME WITH YOUR DISTASTE! LEAVE THIS WORLD, UNWORTHY LUMP OF FISHY ECTOPLASM!"

"Well, wub wub. I see that there's no reasoning with you wub wub. I'll just have to deploy my ULTRA MEGA SUPER-CHARGED SONIC EARSPLITTING SKRILLEX BEAM OF DESTRUCTION!" The fish yelled, a very noisy-looking ball of energy cumulating around its gills.

"NOOOOOO!" Zim screeched, trying to shield his antennae from the onslaught of brain-bursting pure Dubstep energy. The dubstep fish grinned as it fired its death-beam, huge vibrations shattering all windows in the area and many car alarms going off for no reason, just before the entire world exploded in a very loud and dubsteppy manner.

* * *

><p><strong>MORAL: DON'T KILL DUBSTEP FISH, OR THEY'LL COME BACK TO HAUNT YOU LIKE A PERMANENT MIGRAINE. <strong>

**STAY IN SCHOOL, KIDS.**

**AND DON'T LISTEN TO ANYTHING THAT COULD POTENTIALLY KILL BRAIN CELLS, CAUSE TUMOURS OR MAKE SMALL CREATURES SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUST. *Puts headphones on and listens to Bangarang on full volume***

**STAY TUNED FOR SOMETHING THAT MY BRAIN DIDN'T JUST VOMIT UP IN FIVE SECONDS OUT OF BOREDOM. **

**LATERZ.**


End file.
